I Adopted a Girl with Down Syndrome That No One Wanted Right After I Saw 11 Rolls-Royces Parking in Front of My Porch
They told me I was too old, too lonely, and too broken to matter. They laughed behind my back, whispered in grocery store aisles, and shook their heads when I walked by. But then I adopted a baby girl no one else wanted. One week later, eleven black Rolls-Royces pulled up in front of my porch, and everything I thought I knew about her—and myself—was turned upside down. My name is Donna. I’m seventy-three, widowed, and most people expect women like me to spend their days knitting scarves, watching old